It's a Mandola
by SeekerMaxia
Summary: The story of how Will got his mandola.
1. Spring

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan.**

Chapter 1 – Spring

Will loved the arrival of spring. The days got longer, the flowers sprang up from the ground, leaves grew back on the trees, and most importantly of all, the weather became warmer. For Will, this meant no more sleeping on frozen or muddy ground, huddled underneath his cloak, battling the cold air whilst on missions.

However, Will was unable to enjoy this particular spring day too much as Halt had decided that today was the day they would do some much needed repairs about the cabin. Halt had been putting off these repairs due to a variety of reasons. Firstly, there was Morgarath's impending and unsuccessful invasion he and Will had to prepare for over a year ago. Then, Will had been taken to Skandia, and Halt had been expelled from the corps and banished from Araluen for a year. Since they had returned back to the cabin, Halt had been focused upon Will, making sure he was back in peak physical condition, as well as making up lost time for his training. Not only that, Crowley had sent the pair on a plethora of missions all over Araluen, obviously ecstatic about regaining two of his best rangers – but Crowley would never explicitly say this to either Halt or Will.

So now that the weather had gotten better, as well as Crowley relaxing on giving them missions, Halt had decided to make a start on these repairs.

Will drained the last of his coffee from his mug and looked expectantly across the table at Halt who was consulting a list in front of him. Halt, feeling Will's gaze upon him, raised an eyebrow.

"Well, get on with it. I know you're dying to bomb-bard me with a load of questions," Halt said without looking up.

Will took in a deep breath. "What's the plan for today? Tracking? Unseen movement? Map work? What are you reading? Is it another mission from Crowley? Didn't he say he was going to start giving them to other rangers? What is it time? Bandits? Do you want me to get our stuff ready?"

Halt rolled his eyes from the sheer volume of questions coming from his apprentice.

"It's not another mission, thank goodness. It's a list."

"A list?"

Halt let out an irritated sigh, looking towards the heavens. "If I wash your ears out, you might stop repeating every darn thing I say! Now listen very carefully Will, I don't want you repeating this. I have made a list of what jobs need doing."

"Ok, I'm with you so far."

Halt shot Will a glare. "I am considering what ones are the most important so we can do them first. Have you got that?"

"Sure," said Will. "Can I have a look at the list?"

Without a word, Halt passed the paper over to Will who quickly scanned the items that were listed. One job in particular jumped out at Will, partially because it involved climbing.

"I'll repair the roof for you, Halt. I say that's the most important thing – we don't want that falling on our heads. Although, there are some holes in the stable where rats have chewed through the boards; I suppose that should be our priority and –"

"You know what," interrupted Halt, "I think that you can repair the roof, and I'll repair the stable. Besides, I'm getting too old to be climbing up there," gesturing above their heads.

"You're not too old, Halt," said Will with a sympathetic smile. "In a couple of years maybe, but not _right_ now."

Halt looked at Will with a glare that clearly said that Will would find himself with an arrow in his leg if he didn't leave immediately.

"I'll make a start on that roof," said Will quickly, before darting out of the cabin.

_On the bright side_, thought Will, _at least I'll get to spend the day in the sun_.


	2. Musings Come Before A Fall

**Thank you for the reviews and story alerts. They are much appreciated! **

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan.**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two – Musings Come Before A Fall<strong>_

Will and climbing went together like Rangers and coffee – it was a natural combination. Will was able to clamber up onto the roof of the cabin and negotiate the sloped surface with the expertise of a squirrel. Will chuckled as he thought about his days back on the Ward, climbing up trees to escape from Horace since he knew that Horace didn't have the guts to climb up after him. Will knew the reason why he enjoyed climbing so much – he wasn't afraid of falling. He would just get right back up and have another attempt – and that was the secret to his success; not to mention the fact that Master Chubb's delicious pies were motivation enough themselves, back when he lived at the Ward.

Will looked up from where he was working. He could see Tug and Abelard munching away on the lush green grass of their paddock. Halt was also down there, somewhere behind the stable. Will could hear some colourful cursing coming from that direction. Will did consider shouting down to see if the Ranger was alright, but decided against it since Halt would be in a foul mood – repair work was not one of his strong points.

Will inspected the work he had been doing during the morning. He had replaced the wooden tiles that had become broken or loose, much to the displeasure of his fingers. They had received a few painful whacks from the hammer he was using. That had resulted in a few curses coming from his own mouth, but he didn't shout them out like Halt did as the Ranger would wash the apprentice's mouth out with soap if he ever heard. Will thought that this threat was highly unfair since he had learnt all of the curses from Halt in the first place.

To finish the roof, all Will needed to do was paint on a tar-like substance which helped to protect the roof for longer. Will scuttled to the edge of the roof, and after checking it was all clear, dropped the hammer he had been using, letting it land with a dull thud on the grass below. His work pouch, containing extra tiles and nails, followed soon after. He didn't need them now – they would only get in the way. He then retrieved the bucket filled with the tar-like substance from where it was balanced on the top of the roof next to the chimney, and made his way back to the edge. Will dipped the brush into the mixture, and began the monotonous task of weather proofing the roof.

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><p>Halt let out a stream of colourful curses. His hammer had decided it would be a wonderful idea to hit his fingers instead to the nail poised between them. He heard Abelard snort behind him.<p>

_That should teach you to be more careful,_ the horse seemed to say.

"Shut up," growled Halt.

Another snort, _Just passing on some advice_.

"You're a horse – what do you know?"

_More than you, obviously_.

Halt decided that he hated repairing things, and also added to the list that he hated horses that had to get the last word. As an afterthought, he added Will's endless questioning to his mental list – which he changed to apprentices in general.

Thinking of Will, Halt stepped to the side of the stable so he could get a good view of the roof. He could see his apprentice scrambling about with the grace of a squirrel. Halt was secretly glad when Will volunteered to fix the roof – he didn't fancy scrambling around like that – he would look like an idiot. Will on the other hand, looked right at home as he started to paint the roof.

Halt's eyes flickered upwards. It was time for their noon meal. Halt dropped his tools to the floor, narrowly missing his toes, and walked into the cabin, giving Will a nod of acknowledgement as he walked by. Usually, it was Will's job to prepare meals, but Halt needed an excuse to get away from repairing the stable, and Will looked like he was having fun up on the roof – there was no need to spoil his fun.

As Halt stepped into the cool cabin, he decided he would have five minutes to himself to relax, with a mug of coffee and his favourite armchair as his companions. At least they didn't ask questions or try to give him advice. Halt did consider offering Will a mug of coffee, but his apprentice knew where the coffee was kept – if he wanted a mug, he could get it himself.

It wasn't long before Halt settled into his armchair, with a steaming hot mug of coffee nestled in his hands. Halt closed his eyes briefly, only being able to hear the sound of Will adjusting his position from where he was perched on the roof.

A loud rumble from Halt's stomach made him open his eyes. He drained his coffee while it was still hot and went to the kitchen to make lunch in response to his complaining stomach.

As Halt was cooking the eggs in the pan, he realised that it had gone quiet up on the roof. He never liked it when Will went quiet – it meant that trouble was bound to follow; either that or a particularly stupid question. Halt shook his head. He swore he got more paranoid the older he got – or maybe that was the result of having two apprentices. Anyway, Halt decided he should enjoy the quietness – Will would shatter it soon.

Halt checked the egg mixture to find that it was now ready to eat. He flipped it onto two plates and placed them on the table. He then stuck his head out of the door.

Halt called up to the direction of where Will had been working. "Lunch time Will! I made that weird egg thing you're so fond of."

He heard no answer.

"Will?" he called again.

Still no response. Rolling his eyes, Halt stepped out of the cabin and walked around to where Will was sat on his heels next to the edge of the cabin roof. The brush was limp in Will's hand, and his eyes were glazed over, staring off into the distance. Halt, due to his many years of being a Ranger, moved silently closer to where Will was positioned.

Annoyed that his apprentice was away with the fairies, Halt took a deep breath and bellowed, "CLOTH-EARS -!"

Halt didn't finish what he thought would be a witty sentence. Will, shocked by the sudden loud noise, practically jumped out of his skin. Unbalanced he lurched to his left – where there was only air. Will tried with all of his might to regain his balance, but his whole weight had gone to his left side, and he toppled over the edge of the cabin's roof with the ground rushing up to meet him.

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><p><strong>Oh noes! Poor Will.<strong>

**I'm now going to do that really annoying author thing and ask you to review - it doesn't even take a couple of minutes!**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	3. Use It As A Blanket

**It's a Mandola – Chapter 3 – Use it as a blanket.**

**I do not own Ranger's Aprentice - John Flanagan does.  
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><p>It had happened within a matter seconds. One second, Will was up on the roof, the next, there was a loud crack and Will was lying motionless on the grass below.<p>

Halt, with his finely honed Ranger instincts despite his shock, sprang straight into action, landing heavily on his knees beside his apprentice.

"Will! Will! Can you hear me?"

Will was lying on his back, looking dazed. He blinked a couple of times before answering Halt.

"Yeah."

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

Will considered this question before answering, "My leg – the left one."

Halt when to touch the leg in question but Will stopped him. "No! Don't touch it," said Will, levering himself onto one of his elbows, whilst waving his other arm in front of Halt as a sort of barrier to the injured leg.

Halt sat back onto his heels. "Can you move it?"

Will shook his head in response.

"I'm going to have to take a look Will," apologised Halt.

Will nodded reluctantly, and then lay back down on the grass. Halt moved down to Will's leg and tried to slide Will's boot off of his foot, but stopped immediately due to Will's cry of pain. Halt needed to take a look at the leg, so with no other option, he drew his saxe knife and cut down the seam of the boot. Once cut, he was able to slip the boot off with ease, and proceeded to cut open the leg of Will's breeches.

When he saw what had hidden, his heart sank. The leg was slightly skewed, which indicated to Halt that it was broken. Halt sighed, which caused Will to panic.

"What's wrong? It's serious isn't it?" exclaimed Will, pushing himself up to get a better look. When Will saw that his leg was definitely not alright, he turned pale, forcing Halt to push him down so he was lying on the grass once again.

After a moment, Will spoke up again, "Halt, I think my leg's broken."

Halt raised his eyebrow, "I would never have guessed that, especially since it seems to be at a bit of an odd angle. Do you hurt anywhere else?"

Will shook his head. "Just ache. It's like when Tug bucked me off his back the first time we met," he said, giving Halt a weak smile.

Halt nodded and stood up. His initial shock to the situation had worn off, and he now had a plan of action in his mind.

"Where are you going?" asked Will, slight panic edging into his voice.

"Where do you think I'm going?" asked Halt, ignoring his own rules for once.

"I'm an apprentice, I'm not meant to think," replied Will, rolling his eyes in a very Halt-like fashion. Beneath the brave exterior, Halt could tell that Will was very much in pain, and very much scared.

"I need to get a healer. If I attempt to set your leg straight, it might do more harm than good."

Will nodded in acceptance. As part of their training, apprentice Rangers learnt about emergency healing, but with an injury like Will's it was preferable to get the expertise of a healer to look at it. If Halt set the leg wrong, it could mean the end of Will's career as a Ranger. However, if they had been on a mission in the middle of nowhere, then Halt would have attempted to set the leg. But then again, on a mission Will would have known better than to get distracted. Halt pushed that thought out of his mind. The fact was that they were at home at the cabin, and expert help was at Redmont castle not too far away.

Halt looked back down at the broken appendage. Even though he wasn't going to straighten it, Halt could try to alleviate Will's pain.

"I'll be back in a minute," he told Will. "Don't move that leg while I'm gone."

Halt practically ran to the cabin door. Once inside, he grabbed his cloak, longbow and quiver, the medical pack, and the spare blankets that Gilan used when he came to visit. As an afterthought, Halt also grabbed Will's cloak. Arms full, he went back outside and dumped the items unceremoniously beside Will. Halt pulled out the medical pack from beneath Will's cloak and quickly located what he needed. Halt liked to keep everything tidy in the pack so he didn't have to waste time rummaging through it when emergencies like these cropped up.

Halt shoved a bottle of liquid at Will, who had propped himself back onto his elbows, interested in what Halt was doing.

"Drink a mouthful of that," commanded Halt, nodding at the bottle.

Will looked uneasily at the bottle. "Does it have warmweed in it?" he asked tentatively, looking at the bottle in his hand.

Halt looked at Will sympathetically. Warmweed was used as a painkilling drug, but it was common for Skandian slaves to get addicted to the leaves. Will was one of the lucky few to get over a warmweed addiction, but Halt knew that episode of Will's life haunted him.

"It's an alternative," assured Halt. "Now drink up – the quicker you do that, the quicker you can get rid of that pain."

Will drank a mouthful of the painkilling drug and handed the bottle back to Halt, grimacing at the taste. Halt put the bottle back to its place in the pack and got to work rolling up the blankets. Once rolled up, Halt arranged them carefully around Will's injured leg.

Will opened his mouth, but Halt cut in before Will could speak, "The blankets are to support your leg – to stop you moving it. We both know you can't sit still for long if you don't have to."

"I wasn't going to ask that."

There was a brief moment of silence with Halt looking expectantly at Will, in anticipation of his question. "Get on with it then!"

"You brought my cloak. Why did you bring my cloak? I thought I'm not supposed to move. If I'm not going anywhere, why do I need it?"

"You're in shock – use it as a blanket. You are going to stay here, and not move an inch while I am gone. If you had thought about it, you wouldn't have asked such a silly question."

"Sorry Halt."

"Will, if you stopped asking questions, especially the silly ones that you are so fond of, then something would definitely be wrong with you."

Will nodded, "You're right I suppose."

"Of course I'm right. I'm going to saddle up Abelard – if I stay here answering your questions, that leg will never get fixed, and we can't have a Ranger with a funny leg. It'll be back to normal in no time – once I get a healer first."

Will gave a weak chuckle. Admittedly, his mind had been in overdrive, wondering if his leg would be the same – and if it wasn't would he be kicked out of the Corps. He knew that sometimes, when knights had broken their legs, they were unable to fight for Araluen again. Halt had alleviated his fears by saying that the leg could be fixed.

Halt could see some of the tension lift from his apprentice's shoulders. He knew that Will had a tendency to let his imagination get the better of him, and Halt was glad to see that the boy had calmed down a bit. Of course, the painkilling drug had probably contributed quite a bit.

Halt dashed off to the stable at a pace that could be still deemed as dignified in a Ranger that looked like he wasn't panicking too much about his apprentice. He quickly saddled Abelard, pointedly ignoring Tug who was nudging him, wondering why he wasn't being saddled up as well. As Halt led Abelard towards where Will was sprawled out on the grass, he glanced back at Tug who was looking a bit forlorn on his own in the paddock.

"Come on then Tug," said Halt, whilst making the sign for 'follow'.

Tug trotted after the older Ranger and horse, obviously elated at being included in whatever was going on. However, Tug's mood changed when they reached Will.

Tug looked down at Will as if to say: _This is what happens when I'm not around – I shouldn't let you go off by yourself_; then he nuzzled the boy's hair in a comforting gesture.

Halt picked up his longbow and quiver from where he had previously dumped them on the ground, and then swung his cloak around his shoulders. He made the gesture for 'stay' to Tug, and then pointed at his apprentice and the shaggy grey pony in turn.

"Stay. Put. There. Stay put there."

Tug whinnied in reply while Will just asked, "What else am I going to do? Go and pick daffodils?"

Halt decided not to respond. Instead he simply rolled his eyes to the heavens as he mounted Abelard and nudged the horse into a canter out of the clearing.

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><p><strong>This chapter has been a long time coming - please don't shoot me! Life got in the way.<strong>

**It was longer than expected, so sorry if it's boring, but I decided to split the original chapter into two.**

**A question that a couple of reviewers asked will be answered in a later chapter in the story.**

**Oh, and in this chapter there is a reference to both Sherlock and How To Train Your Dragon - see if you can spot them!**

**Reviews will be appreciated - SeekerMaxia out!**


	4. Halt Is Not An Idiot

**It's a Mandola – Chapter 4 – Halt Is Not An Idiot**

**I don't own Ranger's Apprentice. That pleasure goes to John Flanagan**

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><p>The figure strode through the corridors of Castle Redmont, mottled cloak swishing behind him. Anyone who occupied the corridors sprang out of his way. From the determined set of his mouth – which admittedly was the only facial feature anyone could see from beneath his cowl – the people could tell that the Ranger was intent on getting to his destination as quickly as possible, and nobody dared to get in his way.<p>

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><p>Halt didn't bother to knock when he reached the doors of the infirmary, instead choosing to walk in unannounced. This caused the healer on duty to look up in surprise from where he was tending to a Battleschool apprentice with a rather large lump forming on the left temple.<p>

"Ranger Halt! What can I do for you?" asked the healer, his eyes searching for any sign of injury. It was a habit that all healers developed.

"Stop looking at me like that Lucas," said Halt irritably, "I'm fine. It's my apprentice – Will. He's taken a tumble."

Lucas gestured for Halt to elaborate. The term "taken a tumble" could mean a great deal of things, but in Lucas' experience, it generally meant that a toddler had grazed their knee and was screaming merry hell about it.

"He fell off the cabin roof. It looks like he's broken his leg."

"Did you move him?" asked Lucas, more sharply than he intended.

Halt glared from beneath his cowl. "Of course I didn't – give me some credit. I also gave him some of that painkilling drug you gave me not too long back."

"Sorry Halt. Force of habit; you would not believe the amount of idiots I've had to deal with in my career."

"I can probably double that amount. Lucas, I need you to come down to the cabin and see to Will's leg. Immediately would be preferable."

"Alright; but why didn't you go to the village healer for this, she is nearer – why come up to the castle?"

"Because you're a darn sight better than – in fact you're just above mediocre."

Lucas let a small smile touch the edges of his mouth. From Halt, he knew this was the highest compliment anyone could get.

"Glad that's sorted," continued Halt, taking the small smile as affirmation of the healer's willingness to help. "I've got to get back to the cabin – I need to get back to Will. I'm sure you won't be far behind me."

A sudden thought came to Lucas. "Hang on Halt, you didn't leave him by himself did you?"

"Of course I didn't. His pony is keeping him company."

With that said, Halt swept from the infirmary, leaving Lucas gaping after him. After a few seconds, he gathered his wits and addressed the other duty healer who had just walked into the infirmary with a questioning look upon her face, no doubt wondering why the Ranger had just vacated the infirmary.

"Ah, Martha; I need you to hold the fort here. Turns out the apprentice Ranger has gotten himself into some mischief."

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><p>As Abelard trotted into the clearing where Halt's cabin was situated, Halt could hear something out of the ordinary. Frowning, it took him a little while to realise that it was Will singing.<p>

"_Fare thee well, Old Joe Smoke,_

_Fare thee well, I say,_

_Fare thee well, Old Joe Smoke,_

_I'll see you on your way…_"

Halt only thought it was strange, not because Will was bad – Halt had to admit to himself that the lad could hold a tune (not that he would ever mention that to Will). No, Halt only thought of it as strange since he had never heard Will sing before. He wasn't aware that Will even liked to sing or listen to music.

Halt and Abelard rounded the corner to find Will and Tug in exactly the same positions as earlier.

"Right where I left you," murmured Halt, while Tug and Abelard nickered a greeting to each other – Tug obviously curious as to where Abelard had been gallivanting off to.

"You sound like you're enjoying yourself," said Halt as he dismounted Abelard. In the back of his mind he did think that the boy should have used the opportunity to practice being quiet, but Halt did not address this concern.

"You've got a funny definition of 'enjoying yourself'. I was just distracting myself," Will informed Halt.

"Our definitions differ on many a number of words."

"So where's the healer? You didn't scare them off did you?" said Will, smiling at his own joke.

"He's coming. And hopefully it will be soon so he can deal with your never-ending questions. I'm going to sort out Abelard. You stay there… again."

As Halt led Abelard away, with Tug following in the hope of apples, he could hear Will mutter, "There goes my plan for picking daffodils."

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><p><strong>Read and review (pretty please with a cherry on top!).<strong>

**Chapter was shorter than expected, but I suppose that makes up for the longer-than-expected chapter three. I also updated fairly quickly as well - yay me!**

**So who do you think Will sounds like when he sings - please comment in your review, heck your review can just comment on who you think Will sounds like!**

**So go ahead and review - go on press the button (I know you want to).**

**SeekerMaxia out!  
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	5. Stop Antagonizing The Patient!

**It's A Mandola - Chapter Five – Stop Antagonizing the Patient**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice. John Flanagan does. End of.**

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><p>As Halt rounded the corner from unsaddling Abelard in the paddock back to where Will was laid out, Lucas entered the clearing on the back of a rather fat pony, who in Halt's opinion, had evidently been eating more than one apple per day during its entire lifetime. Halt nodded his approval of the healer arriving so promptly – obviously the pony was fitter than it first appeared to be.<p>

Lucas dismounted with the stiffness and apprehension of someone unused to horseback, only riding when absolutely necessary. As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Lucas unloaded his medical pack, and loosened the girth of the fat pony's saddle.

"I'm guessing that's my patient," Lucas said to Halt, nodding over to where Will, propped up on his elbows, was watching with undisguised curiosity.

"You _can _put the pony in the paddock," replied Halt, striding over to Lucas, ignoring his statement that stated the absolute obvious. "I'm sure Will's not going to die right this minute."

"Die?" squeaked Will, his voice a couple of pitches higher than usual. "I thought we established that I'm not going to die? You said it was a broken leg. Can you die from a broken leg?"

"Halt, stop antagonizing my patient," Lucas commanded. Halt knew that nothing could stop a healer from fixing up his patient, and knew better than to defy Lucas. However, this didn't stop Halt from glaring at the healer instead. Lucas walked over to Will and crouched beside him. "No one has died from a broken leg on my watch, and you're definitely not going to be the first to do so. Between you and me, I think that you are in safe hands."

"That's alright then," said Will, his voice returned to its normal pitch. "We do have a paddock," he then said, looking pointedly towards the pony, whose attention was now fully upon eating as much grass as possible.

"That won't be necessary. Ernie is incredibly lazy and will not move more than a few feet from the spot he is standing in right now. He's perfectly safe where he is."

Behind Lucas, Will saw Halt roll his eyes in disbelief.

"You said that about the last one as well," said Halt bluntly as Lucas walked around Will to get a better look at the injured leg. "If I remember correctly, the blasted thing wandered off."

"And if I remember correctly, you were going to send Gilan off to look for Bert just after I had finished stitching and bandaging him up!"

"His legs were fine – it was only his hand that had been cut."

"The cut had a slight infection to it, and Gilan had the startings of a fever," Lucas retorted, disapproval evident in his voice.

Halt glowering, opened his mouth to explain that he was not that cruel to his apprentices, and that the healer did not understand a joke even if it hit him with an arrow, when Will, the boy with the never-ending questions, cut across him with his own question.

"Hang on – you know Gilan?" asked Will in amazement, before biting back a gasp of pain as Lucas probed the injured leg with his expert fingers.

"You are not the first apprentice of Halt's I've had the pleasure to treat. I saw Gilan many a time whilst he was in training… although he never broke any of his bones. No, tell a lie, he did break his nose once, but I got him looking like his usual self once again in no time at all; much to his pleasure, of course. I do consider that among one of my finest works – you can't tell he has ever broken it just by looking at it. I also believe that he never fought with Battle-school apprentices again after that little episode."

Halt gave a loud snort. "Is that what he told you? Had a fight with Battle-school apprentices? The truth is he ran into a tree. After that episode, he learnt to look where he was running. Next time we see him Will, ask him how his nose is – it'll make my day."

Lucas chuckled before turning his attention back to Will. "The good news is that your leg can be easily fixed."

"Oh good… what's the bad news?"

"The bone has become displaced and I'm going to have to straighten it back into the correct position before I can do anything else."

"And that's going to hurt?"

"I'm afraid so, and I can't give you any more pain relief on top of what you've already had."

Will nodded. He had expected it would come to this (after being reassured that he would not in fact die). He set his jaw in anticipation of what was to come. "I would rather you get on with it."

"Hold your horses, lad," interjected Halt. "It's better to have a job done properly than to rush it – we are talking about your leg here."

"But surely the sooner you start to do a job properly, the sooner you will get it finished?"

Halt rolled his eyes. "This is why apprentices should not think – they come out with idiotic things like that." He didn't want to admit that Will did in fact have a point. "Never get an apprentice Lucas. They're nothing but trouble."

"Too late," replied Lucas, rather bemused. "He starts next week. Anyway, enough dilly-dallying – I have a patient to treat before winter comes. Plan of action is we'll straighten the leg out here – it's not ideal, but it'll have to do. After that we can move you inside, Will."

Halt was about to interject with a question, but Lucas had moved over to his medical pack and was in full flow.

"Once we've done that, I can make sure the leg in fully in place and finish off treating you with the easy part. Oh Halt, have you ever assisted in treating a broken leg before?"

"Yes," said Halt with trepidation, pushing aside the question he was going to ask previously

"Good, then you know what to do," replied Lucas, arranging some wooden slats and strips of bandages next to the injured leg.

"Err… what's Halt going to do?" asked Will as the Ranger in question knelt beside Will. "It's not going to be anything bad is it?"

"I'm going to have to hold you down," explained Halt with a sigh. "It's going to hurt like buggery, I can promise you that, and we need you moving around as little as possible."

Will nodded his understanding, and lay back down upon the grass, deciding that he did not want to witness Lucas pulling his leg – literally.

Halt got into position, practically sitting on top of his apprentice, and grasped Will's thigh firmly to immobilize the leg. Lucas was already in position, hands lightly holding onto Will's leg just above the ankle.

Lucas called down to Will. "Do you want me to count down from three, or shall I give you no warning?"

"Just get on with –" Will let out a shout of pain as Lucas pulled upon the injured limb.

Halt could not bear to look, instead choosing to focus on Will's other foot that was digging into the ground. Between Will's first and second cries of pain, Halt became aware of a pain in his right ankle. For one absurd moment, he thought he might be getting sympathy pains, but looking round, he saw that Will had clamped onto to his ankle with such force that Will's knuckles had turned white. Halt mused that he would probably find finger shaped bruising on his ankle when he took his boots off that night.

"I hope no one is near," Halt commented to his apprentice. "It does sound an awful lot like we're murdering you."

Will gave a weak chuckle, and then cried out in pain again before going silent.

"Has he fainted?" asked Lucas, who couldn't see past Halt.

"Yes, and thank goodness for that," said Halt lightly as he removed his ankle from Will's limp grasp, wiggling his toes so he could get some feeling back into them. "Finally, a bit of peace and quiet. He never shuts up – even talks in his sleep; many a time I've been tempted to give him a tap on the head just to shut him up."

Lucas gave Halt a sceptical look. "Well, I'm done straightening the leg; could you hold it in place while I strap it up?"

Halt complied as Lucas expertly strapped Will's leg into a splint in hardly any time at all. A groan from Will alerted the two men that he had woken up.

"I think I'm ready," murmured a dazed Will, blinking up at Halt who was now leaning over him, eyebrow raised.

"That's good, but we started without you," commented Halt.

Will blinked, confused. "What are you talking about we haven't –" Then comprehension dawned upon him. He gave a small yelp to the non-existent dreadful pain he had been expecting, being the last thing he suddenly remembered, then pushed himself up onto his elbows looking at his newly splinted leg. "Oh, I wondered why it suddenly felt more comfortable."

"That's encouraging to hear," said Lucas. "Now all we have to do is get you into the cabin, Will. You don't have a stretcher here by any chance?"

"Shouldn't you have brought a stretcher with you?" asked Halt, remembering the problem he had thought of earlier, yet had no time to ask.

"Well, the third year Battle-school apprentices are doing some sort of battlefield scenario today, so I let them borrow my stretchers. However, they also took the one I use for call-outs without me realising it, and I didn't have time to ask for it back. Besides nothing surprises me with you Rangers anymore, so I thought there might be a chance that you would have one."

"Does my cabin look like an infirmary to you?"

"Well… no."

"There's your answer then. You're worse than my apprentice for asking idiotic questions. Stay there – it seems I'm the only one here who has the capacity to sort this little problem out," said Halt before turning on his heel and striding off in the direction of the stable.

"What do you think he's going to do?" asked Lucas.

"Knowing Halt? Either something ingenious or something scary… sometimes it's both."

"Or something simple that's he's going to pass off as his own ingenious thinking," said Lucas as Halt returned with two long planks of wood and a horse blanket. He easily constructed a stretcher out of the materials as if it was something that he had to do regularly.

Will looked at the blanket with a slight frown. "Halt, isn't that Tug's blanket?"

Halt looked down at the blanket in mock surprise, then faced Will, saying in complete seriousness, "Don't worry, I'll wash it for him when you're finished with it."

Will gave his master a very Halt-like glare (that Halt was quite proud of, although he would never admit this) before lying back down on the grass in resignation.

_On the bright side_, thought Will, _at least I got to spend most of the day in the sun_.

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><p><strong>Phew, that's a long chapter!<br>**

**Sorry it's taken so long to update. Did not realise it had been two months since the last chapter otherwise I would have updated sooner!**

**I would like to take this opportunity to thank people for the reviews, alerts and what nots - as I've said before, it's greatly appreciated. (Wow that sounded like an acceptance speech for the Baftas!).  
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**Once I finish this story, I have other ideas that I'm going to write related to the RA fandom which are buzzing about in my head at the moment, so that will be great motivation to finish this story.  
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**Again, I am going to ask people to review. You can do an anonymous review if you wish. You can't really miss the big blue button. Ask a question if you want, or even just say hi. Go on press it - I dare you!  
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**May your arrows fly true - Seeker Maxia.  
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	6. Difference Between Music And Noise

_**Chapter Six – There's a difference between music and noise.**_

**Disclaimer: I think you should know by now that I don't own Ranger's Apprentice - but John Flanagan does!**_**  
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><p><em>A Few Days Later…<em>

Halt led Abelard through the village market, eyes darting like a hawk's. He wasn't looking at the wares that were on offer – he knew exactly what he needed to buy, and wanted to get away as quickly as possible. No, this behaviour was all down to habit, ingrained from training and his many years served as a Ranger. However, whenever there was a market, there was bound to be a thief lurking about, willing to try his luck – it was an unwritten rule that Halt was all too aware of.

Halt mentally went through his shopping list, checking off each item that he knew was secured safely in Abelard's saddle packs. There was only one more item left to get – the one thing that Rangers could not contemplate living without: coffee. In the few days that Will had been stuck inside the cabin, Halt had found that his sack of coffee beans had rapidly depleted. This was due to them both of them needing it to help them through the theory work that Halt had been teaching Will, since it was Will's leg that was broken and not his brain (although Halt sometimes doubted this statement). No, Halt was not going to let Will get off training too lightly, even if Will did find the work to be boring, and Halt going near crazy from a mix of Will's inattentiveness and endless questions, which more often than not were entirely off-topic.

A figure on horseback riding among the crowd caught Halt's attention. He groaned inwardly at the sight of the very familiar figure in the mottled grey and green cloak, cowl leaving most of the face in shadow.

Halt's first thought as the other Ranger raised his hand in greeting was "_Great, I'm going to have a fun time explaining myself"_, while the second thought which followed immediately after was _"I'm going to have to buy even more coffee_".

Halt led Abelard over to where the Ranger was dismounting his own pony, to whom Abelard nickered a greeting, and received one in return.

"What are you doing here Crowley?" asked Halt gruffly.

"And hello to you too, old friend," replied Crowley, raising an eyebrow.

Halt scowled. "Less of the old if you don't mind – you're not exactly young yourself."

Crowley laughed lightly. "True. More true than I dare to think about."

"You haven't answered my question – what are you doing in Redmont – and here to be exact."

"I got your message – it was a bit ambiguous, even for you."

Halt nodded. When Lucas had finished treated Will on the day of the accident, Halt had given Lucas a message to send from Castle Redmont to Crowley by messenger pigeon, very briefly explaining that he and Will would be out of action for at least a few weeks. Halt had hoped that he had written it in such a way that it did not raise any more questions and that Crowley would accept Halt's ambiguous report, which he had done many times before. Obviously, that was not the case. Halt had half expected for Crowley to request a more detailed report on the situation, as he sometimes did. What Halt didn't expect was for the Commandant to come and visit.

"Besides," continued Crowley, "I thought I had well-earned a short break, so I left the paperwork to be dealt with by a few retired Rangers – who were a bit too enthusiastic about it I daresay – and decided to visit an old friend and his annoying apprentice."

"Let me guess… the old friend is me," said Halt dryly, but Crowley ignored him.

"Naturally, because of protocol, I went to report to Baron Arald first." Halt mentally groaned. He had reported the incident to Baron Arald himself the day after the accident, although the Baron had already heard the story from Lucas. No doubt the man had relayed all the information to Crowley. "I hear that Will fell off the roof of the cabin."

"You heard correct," said Halt stiffly.

"How did that happen?" Crowley waited for a few seconds for a reply which didn't come. "Halt?"

"I may have startled him."

"You sound guilty – that means it was your fault."

"Shut up, Crowley," growled Halt.

"That makes you sound even more guilty."

Halt just glared back. If looks could kill, Crowley definitely would have been dead and buried.

"You need to make it up to him," said Crowley simply.

"What?" barked Halt, not expecting this. He thought that Crowley would try to give Halt a talking to, not suggest he had to make it up to Will… well not quite yet. And then he thought that it would only be a simple apology. It's not like Will was holding a grudge – in fact the lad hadn't talked about the incident itself whatsoever. And neither had Halt.

"Well, from what I gather so far, you did cause Will to break his leg, so as an idea, you could buy him a present. It may also ease you guilty conscience."

Halt thought this through. "That is an idea I suppose," he said slowly.

"I thought that would take some more convincing," said Crowley, surprised.

"To tell you the truth," said Halt slowly, not quite looking at Crowley, but at a point over Crowley's shoulder instead, "I still owe Will a present for his birthday that I missed while in Skandia."

"What?" exclaimed Crowley. He knew Halt was a softie at heart (despite his protests), and thought that it was not like him to not give Will a birthday present, even if he had missed it. Crowley knew some details of Will's past, but knew that he did not know the entire story – that Halt would more than likely tell him the whole story when he felt the time was right. He knew that Halt had a soft spot for the lad –not giving Will a present for his birthday was out of Halt's character, even if Halt found giving presents to be embarrassing. Although, Halt tended not to _give_ presents but chuck the present at the recipient with a grunt that sounded like "here".

"I could hardly give him a present at the time – we did have other things to worry about," defended Halt. "I did breach the subject with him on the voyage back, but he said that all he cared about was getting back home to Redmont and being an apprentice again. He said that he would consider that his present, and he was satisfied with that."

"But you weren't," said Crowley, speaking what Halt left unspoken. "Let's go around the market. I shall help you to decide of course. I know you can be quite unimaginative when it comes down to this type of thing – and I fear you have passed this skill on to your apprentice."

"What are you wittering on about?"

Crowley let a devilish smile play on his lips. "When Will, Gilan and Horace were travelling to Celtica, Will and Gilan apparently told stories about being your apprentice. Gilan told me that when it was Will's first winter solstice as your apprentice, he gave you some socks."

"True," admitted Halt. "I don't know what goes on in the boy's head sometimes."

"Well, Gilan also told me the reasoning behind that present," continued Crowley, enjoying this a bit too much for Halt's liking. "Will, apparently, gets grumpy when his feet are cold, so he thought that the reason why you're always so grim is because your feet are always cold. So, following this line of reasoning, Will thought than new socks would mean warm feet, which would mean a happy Halt. I thought that was quite some imaginative thinking."

"He's an idiot," said Halt, not admitting that he did need the new socks at the time since his old ones had been darned so many times, there was no original sock left. "What would you suggest for a present? Something that will keep him occupied would be preferable. It's only been a few days and he's driving me insane already. Besides Crowley, you're just jealous because you don't have an apprentice to buy you socks."

Crowley snorted. What Halt didn't know was that he owned plenty of new socks since that tended to be the present of choice from the retired Rangers, who all knew the misery of cold feet and camping outside, and so they tried to give presents that were useful, albeit unimaginative and not really needed still Crowley spent most of his life at his desk in his tower room at the castle.

"Since you're here," said Halt deviously as he spied one stall in particular, "you can buy the coffee. I know what you're like when it comes to buying coffee."

"I thought I would get out of that one," lamented Crowley as Halt led them over to the coffee stall. Once there, Halt ordered twice the usual amount of coffee, and allowed Crowley to pay for every penny of it, although Halt did wonder how long the coffee would last.

"So," said Crowley as he and Halt walked side by side through the market, ponies following behind them, "any ideas on what to get Will?"

"No."

"No? Is that it? A no? You haven't given this much thought – have you lost your quick thinking skills in your old age?"

"What's your bright idea then?"

"As you said, we need something to occupy him – mentally stimulate him – which he probably isn't getting from the dull theory lessons you've no doubt been putting him through." Crowley pointedly ignored the glare originating from Halt's direction. "As you know, we do have a rehabilitation fund for Rangers injured in their line of duty, to support them while they get back on their feet – although that could be taken literally in Will's case, so money isn't really the issue. The real problem is in finding the perfect – ah ha!"

Halt followed Crowley's line of sight, which revealed a stall jam-packed full of assorted musical instruments.

"No, definitely not. Will makes enough noise as it is without you adding to it. You are also not the one who has to live with him."

"Tut tut Halt. Noise and music are radically different things, but then I wouldn't expect you to understand such things."

"You don't understand such things either – you just pretend you do."

"I still know more than you in any case. Anyway, my musical sophistication isn't the point – the point is whether Will likes music or not."

Halt pondered. Will _was_ singing to himself the other day, and he did have an annoying habit of humming when doing the housework, which incidentally was the time Halt normally caught up on his reports. Halt looked at the stall and his eyes fell upon a stringed instrument – a lute Halt thought it was. A memory rushed back to him of a feast several years ago hosted by the Baron at Redmont Castle. Gilan had been his apprentice at the time, and they had both attended since Halt had grudgingly accepted to go due to the insistence of Gilan. There was a minstrel playing the same instrument as entertainment for the guests. The children from the Ward also attended. Halt could clearly remember the children seated on the floor at the minstrel's feet; and right at the front, in danger of tripping the minstrel up if he took just one step forward, was a young boy – hair tousled, dark eyes big and round, with his mouth agape. A young Will had sat there on the cold stone floor that night absolutely mesmerized by the minstrel and his lute. Halt even remembered that Gilan had noticed the young Will's amazement and had commented: "_If he keeps his mouth wide open like that for much longer, he'll be catching flies_." This had earned Gilan a considerable scowl from Halt, and a clip round the ear. Halt wondered if Gilan had made the connection between the wide-eyed boy and the apprentice that Will was today.

"I believe he does," said Halt at long last, tearing himself from the memory, and answering Crowley's question.

"Glad that's settled. So, what do you think Will would like?" asked Crowley, inspecting a set of pan pipes.

"One of those stringed things – a lute… but best not have too many strings, it might confuse him. That one will do," said Halt, gesturing to a plain, small lute that looked to have eight strings instead of ten like the other lutes on show.

Crowley laughed, "Give the boy some credit. He is going to be a great Ranger you know."

"Don't say that in front of him," grumbled Halt. "Don't want him to be getting a big head."

"Big head? I don't think there's any danger of that. I don't think Will actually knows what he's capable of."

Halt agreed with Crowley, but did not voice this since he thought it would be in everyone's best interests to not let the Ranger Commandant to get a big head either. He decided to let Crowley deal with the bartering since the stallholder did not look too keen in dealing with the grim-faced Halt. However, he made sure to listen into the conversation just to ensure that the price wasn't set ridiculously high, as Halt did intend to pay every last penny for it, rehabilitation fund or not. Plus there was always the factor that Will might get bored of it within a few months, he didn't want too much money wasted if that was going to be the case.

Before long, Halt heard Crowley and the stallholder, with Crowley instructing the stallholder how to claim the money from the Ranger funds at Castle Araluen. The men shook hands and Halt observed the stallholder put the lute in a hard leather case. Halt raised a questioning eyebrow at Crowley.

"He included it in the price," shrugged Crowley. "It was a very good deal."

Halt accepted the instrument which was packed securely in its leather case from the stallholder.

"Let's get this lute back to Will. No doubt he'll be wanting a coffee –"

"Actually," interrupted the stallholder, "it's a mandola."

"Whatever," replied Halt, although he mentally filed this information away for later use in order to seem more 'musically sophisticated' (as Crowley would put it) in front of Will. Well, he had to impress his apprentice somehow… and annoy Crowley at the same time.

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><p><strong>I had meant to upload this ages ago even though I wrote it in about a couple of hours (not even that). If procrastination was an Olympic event, I would win gold - but that isn't something I should be proud of.<strong>

**Another fairly long chapter - it's approximately 2400 words. I have to write essays that long (yet it takes me far less time to write a chapter... curious). Anyway I'm not too happy with this chapter even though I done quite a bit of editing after writing it - so if you have any suggestions on how to improve it, I will appreciate it!  
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**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and put this on story alert or favourite stories and whatever else this site provides.  
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**Please review - as I've said before it can be an anonymous review (or guest as it's now called) - please don't let the new system put you off!  
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**May you arrows fly true - SeekerMaxia.  
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	7. The Gift of Coffee

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan... but you should know that by now.**

**Chapter Seven: The Gift of Coffee**

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><p><em>Will was standing in the forest just outside of Wensley Village; except it wasn't exactly the forest that he was so familiar with. This forest was overcrowded with trees that were wider and higher than Will was used to. Not only that, for some strange reason, Gilan was giving Will a lesson on how to avoid trees whilst fleeing from an enemy. He had obviously decided that Will needed a demonstration as he was darting between the trees, cloak streaming artistically behind him. To Will's amusement, Gilan had deemed it necessary to add a few forward rolls in this demonstration.<em>

_Suddenly, Gilan disappeared. Will spun around, trying to locate where his temporary teacher has gotten to, but instead found himself face to face with Halt; looking more grim faced than usual… if that was entirely possible._

"_Let's see if you've learnt anything," growled Halt. "Run!"_

"_What?" asked Will, wondering if he misunderstood._

"_You need to clean your ears out boy – I said run!"_

"_But I can't – my leg, it's broken," protested Will weakly, vaguely wondering why he was able to stand at all on a broken leg._

"_Run, or I'll start putting arrows in you," threatened Halt, lifting his bow, arrowed already nocked._

_Will started running, no longer caring about his broken leg… but strangely his leg didn't hurt at all. As he kept running, the trees edged closer and closer together, making it hard for Will to negotiate around them. To one side, Will could hear Gilan shouting words of encouragement and advice, while behind him, Halt was content in shooting arrows so they embedded themselves in the ground and the trees, only inches away from injuring Will._

_Will risked a glance behind him, but Halt was nowhere in sight, only an arrow whizzing past Will's head indicated to him that the older Ranger was still out there somewhere. He whipped his head back round again and saw that he was about to run straight into a particularly wide oak tree. Will tried to avoid it, but his momentum was too great. He shut his eyes ready for impact when he heard Tug give an ear-splitting whinny._

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><p>Will's eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright. Sensing no immediate danger, he brought his breathing back under control as the remains of his dream faded away, and reality took over again – Halt was not shooting arrows at him, Gilan was not there, and Will's leg was most definitely still broken and in a cast. Under Halt's guidance, Will had been trained to be a light sleeper, and react instantly to any sound that may indicate a threat to his, or his comrades' lives. Despite being slightly fuddled with sleep, Will could quickly identify that Tug was not giving a warning – in fact it was a greeting, which meant Halt was back.<p>

Will leaned back onto the pillows that kept him propped up whilst still in bed. Strictly speaking, it wasn't his bed – it was Halt's. When Halt and Lucas had carried Will into the cabin, it was decided that Will's room was too small for Lucas to effectively treat his patient, and the only substitute was Halt's own room. Although Will had suggested that the dining table would do just fine, and he could be moved to his own tiny room later, Halt had shot down that idea immediately, saying it was unhygienic as he didn't know where Will had been and didn't want Will infecting the table since _he _still had to eat there.

This arrangement was only a temporary one. Halt had made it perfectly clear that once Will was independently mobile again, he would go back to sleeping in his own bed again. Lucas had promised to send a pair of crutches from the castle infirmary for Will to borrow whilst his leg was still in its cast. However, as of yet, Will had not seen hide nor hair of these crutches. When Will had asked Halt when the crutches would arrive, Halt had said that Lucas was getting a pair cut down in order to best fit Will's short stature. Will did not fully believe the Ranger, but went along with it anyway, deciding to make the most of sleeping in the larger bed.

Will's eyes flickered from the cast on his leg to the book which lay abandoned on his lap. This book was extremely boring, going into great detail of the political exploits between Araluen and Celtica from over the past one hundred and fifty years. Will was supposed to have read at least three chapters before Halt returned, after which, Halt would test Will on what he had read. Halt was not going to be happy. Will had only read a few pages before vowing to never put his own apprentice through this torture (if he ever had one) and then fell asleep.

_At least I know what to do if I have trouble sleeping one night, _thought Will, _I'll just read this book. I wonder Halt would let me take this book on missions… it'll certainly help me sleep better on the hard ground._

He started to panic slightly as he heard the almost silent tread of footsteps on the veranda. He noticed that there was more than one set of footsteps, but pushed this out of his mind as he tried to skim through the pages as quickly as possible.

The cabin door creaked on its hinges, and Will, whilst desperately trying to read as quickly as possible, listened to out to who it was who had come to the cabin with Halt. The voices were muffled from behind the bedroom door. Will was able to quickly identify Halt, and after a couple more seconds… Crowley.

Will knew it was futile to try and speed read the set chapters as the voices came nearer, so instead he flattened his hair the best he could, which was no doubt messed up from his "nap", and tried to assemble his features into a mildly interested expression and pretended he had been reading the book the entire time Halt was out. He had only just settled into this position when Halt and Crowley entered the room.

"Crowley – good to see you! How are you? What brings you to Redmont?" Will fired off these questions in one breath. He could see that Crowley was mildly disappointed that Halt had (finally) managed to wean Will off from calling the Ranger Commandant "Sir".

"Good to see you again Will, although I must say I'm a darn sight better than you are at the moment." Crowley turned to Halt. "You're making him work whilst you're out? He should be sleeping, or wallowing in self-pity… or whatever else sick people do."

"He might get better faster if it gets him out of theory work," replied Halt, looking at his apprentice much too intently for Will's liking.

"A broken leg doesn't work like that," said Crowley shaking his head.

"Worked on Gilan."

"He had a cold… and a fake one so he told me."

"Crowley, save your breath," sighed Halt before turning to Will. "You've been sleeping while I've been gone."

It was a statement, not a question.

"What makes you say that?" asked Will innocently.

"You still have drool on your chin and I can tell you haven't read one chapter of that book."

Cheeks turning red, Will sheepishly wiped his chin clean of the incriminating evidence.

Crowley glanced at the book in Will's hands. "I'm not surprised he fell asleep reading that. Tried reading that myself once, but had to stop. I feared that I would have been the first person to die of boredom. Imagine the speech at my funeral!" Crowley's features turned solemn. "Friends… comrades… Your Majesties… we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of beloved Ranger Commandant Crowley Meratyn, whose life was regretfully cut short through the cause of boredom through reading. Not that he condemns reading… only reading that particular book, a fate he would not wish upon his worst enemy – no forget that last bit. Anyway… his last request was for the book to be destroyed, lest any unfortunate apprentice succumbs to the same fate."

Crowley's face stayed solemn as Will unsuccessfully smothered a smile.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "I think you've missed your true calling in life. You should step down as Commandant and join the travelling actors' troupe. I've heard they're looking for a new clown."

"Then I'll appoint you as my successor," replied Crowley, flashing Halt a devilish smile.

"Hilarious," replied Halt sarcastically, before taking on a devilish look of his own. "Since Will hasn't bothered to read what I've set him, you can teach him about the historical political exploits between Araluen and Celtica. You have nothing better to do, and it'll give you a chance to impart knowledge onto the younger generation… although I'm not entirely convinced that you imparting knowledge onto Will is a good idea."

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><p>"I never knew that teaching could be so mentally tiring. Why you decided to take on a second apprentice is beyond me," exclaimed Crowley, coming out of Halt's room two hours later, looking slightly stressed.<p>

"I thought it couldn't get any worse than Gilan – second time in my life I've been wrong," said Halt, looking up from the report that he had been reading.

"When was the first time?"

"The day that I decided befriending you was a good idea."

"Come now Halt, I'm not that bad," said Crowley with a smirk, moving over to the kitchen to make himself a much needed coffee. He was silent for a few seconds but turning to Halt. "It's the endless questions – you've told me about it, but I didn't realise it was _that_ bad. Not only that, he sometimes asks one question, and once you've answered it, he asks a totally unrelated one straight after. I don't think that's normal."

"I've learnt that is normal for him. You should have seen him when he was first apprenticed to me – it was a good few days before he could ask me a question without looking like he was about to vomit. It's when he goes deathly quiet, that's when you should start worrying – nothing good comes when that happens."

"Halt… Crowley…" called Will from Halt's bedroom. "If you both talk just a little bit louder, I'm sure Wensley village could hear you too. Oh, and I'll have a coffee too thanks."

"Apprentices should know that it is rude to eavesdrop on their teacher and commandant," shouted Halt in the direction of Will's voice.

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" protested Will. "I could hear you both very clearly right where I'm sitting. I _was_ trying to work, and all I could hear were you both talking about me."

"Will… if you want your coffee, I would suggest that you shut up, stop eavesdropping and get on with whatever work Crowley has set you."

The two men listened as they heard grumbling in the adjacent room, before it gave way to the rustling of papers and quiet mumbling, indicating that Will had started to work again.

"Will tells me that he's still waiting for his crutches to arrive from the infirmary," said Crowley conversationally in a low voice, sitting next to Halt at the table as he waited for the water to boil. "Apparently they're getting cut down to size, which Will finds a little insulting…"

"What's your point Crowley?" grumbled Halt, also adopting a low volume.

"I was wondering what those things are over there," replied Crowley, looking past Halt.

Halt didn't have to turn around to know the object of Crowley's curiosity. Propped up on the wall of the cabin, out of Will's sight from Halt's bedroom, was a pair of crutches, and they were most definitely Will-sized.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Thought I could keep him contained for a few days so I didn't have to listen to his incessant chatter. Don't look at me like that – you can't stand teaching him for two hours."

"You enjoy it really," said Crowley with a knowing look. "Although, you have to let him out of that room soon; he's going stir crazy in there with nothing but theory work to keep him occupied. And talking of keeping him occupied, when are you going to give him his gift?"

Water boiled, Crowley left his place at the table to make a coffee for each Ranger – apprentice included.

"I was going to wait for the… opportune moment," said Halt, somewhat Lamely.

"Opportune moment? That's poetic of you Halt," commented Crowley as he began searching the cupboards.

"I do have a sophisticated vocabulary, I just don't flaunt it, unlike a certain Commandant I know," said Halt, before taking pity on his friend. "Second cupboard on the left. No – other left. Honestly, how did you graduate if you can't follow simple directions?"

"I thought you were talking about _your _left," said Crowley, brandishing the successfully found jar of honey in his hand.

"I was being considerate and was trying to make it easy for you," huffed Halt. "Anyway, when do you suggest I give Will his gift."

"Now."

"Now?"

"You're getting as bad as your apprentice. Yes, now… along with the gift of coffee," smiled Crowley, lifting up the mug meant for Will. "No time like the present."

Halt gave Crowley a scowl. The Ranger was talking sense, and it was best to get the awkwardness of giving a gift over with as quickly as possible. Leaving his reports abandoned on the table, Halt accepted both Will's and his own coffee from the grinning Commandant, and made his way over to the bedroom, pausing only to collect the mandola in its case, which Halt had left next to the crutches. He managed to negotiate the bedroom door with ease, and was greeted by a smiling Will, obviously delighted at the interruption to his work.

"I thought you both had forgotten about me," commented Will.

"That's not likely to happen."

Will accepted his coffee from Halt and took a sip. "Crowley made this didn't he? He always holds back on the honey."

"I think he's trying to wean you and Gil off it. He thinks it's an abomination to add honey to coffee."

Will gave a huff of amusement before taking another sip. "What have you got there?" he asked, nodding to the case in Halt's hand.

"It's for you," said Halt, thrusting the case towards Will, who raised a questioning eyebrow. "Open it and find out what it is then!"

Will put his coffee to one side, and accepted the case from Halt, looking a tad suspicious. Laying the case onto his lap, he clicked open the clasps. Opening the lid, Will gave a gasp of delighted surprise.

"It's a mandola!" exclaimed Will.

Halt's plan to appear musically sophisticated gone awry, he replied, "Are you sure it's not a lute?"

Will scowled, "A lute has ten strings. A mandola, which is sort of like a large mandolin, has eight strings tuned in pairs."

"When did you become an expert?"

"At one of Baron Arald's feasts that I attended when I was a ward, there was a minstrel there playing a mandola. After he played his set, I asked him a few questions."

"It's never a few questions with you."

"He had to bribe me to shut up and go away," said Will with a sly smile. He looked back down at the instrument, face turning serious. "Why did you get me this? Not that I want to sound ungrateful…"

"For a variety of reasons."

"Could you elaborate for me?"

Halt scowled before giving in. "I still owed you a birthday present from when you were in Skandia-"

"I thought we talked about-"

"But also because of … you know…" said Halt, indicating Will's broken leg.

Will went quiet for a few seconds, eyes fixed on the mandola.

"It's my fault, the accident," said Will softly, refusing to look at Halt.

Halt didn't say anything, instead opting to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for Will to continue.

"I shouldn't have allowed myself to get distracted," said Will shamefully.

"Distracted how?"

Will shook his head, "It's stupid – it shouldn't have happened."

"You're going to have to tell me sooner or later. Better to get it over and done with."

Will glanced at Halt, and took a deep breath. "I… I was thinking about my mother and father."

This shocked Halt as out of all things, he did not expect this, but he kept his expression neutral. _Of course he's bound to think of his family sometimes. It's natural! I don't know why you're surprised,_ he chided himself.

"It's just that everything has been so… manic. First there was the Kalkara; then we were getting ready to go to against Morgarath; then there was the bridge; next was Skandia and the battle there… and since then we've been doing rigorous training and going on missions. The other day, when we were doing those repairs felt like the most normal thing I've done in a long time. I mean stuff that most people consider normal… not Ranger stuff. Then I started thinking: would I being doing this type of stuff if I wasn't an apprentice Ranger? What would have my life been like if my parents had been alive? Would I regularly been doing jobs like this at their house? Would I have still been apprenticed to a Ranger… or would I have become a farmer like my father? Then I started to imagine what it would have been like to work with him." Will paused before facing Halt, rushing over his words, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry Halt, I should have never gotten distracted – it goes against my training – I'm a lousy appren-"

Halt held up a hand to silence the boy before he distressed himself too much. He then put a reassuring arm around Will's shoulders.

"It's natural Will, and I rather you get distracted here at the cabin, at home, than on a mission where it really matters. I know that you are not stupid enough to get distracted on a mission – and you've been on plenty of them with me to prove it. It's as much my fault for the accident since I could see your mind wasn't in the land of the living, and that you were perched on the edge of a roof. Sometimes it can be a drawback to move around so quietly. I'm sorry Will. Now what I suggest is that we put this behind us – agreed?"

Will nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, managing to give Halt a smile.

"Will, just so you know, I think you still would have been a Ranger if your parents were still alive. You may not have been apprenticed to me, but I think that you still would have attracted the Rangers' attention," reassured Halt, before raising an eyebrow. "Besides, any other tradesman would have gotten rid of you within the first few weeks after enduring your endless questions."

Will let out a small laugh, "If I'm that annoying, why haven't you gotten rid of me?"

"I had Gilan as an apprentice first – nobody deserved that fate… maybe except Crowley."

"Does this mean that you prefer _me _as an apprentice?"

"No – the truth be told, you and Gilan are as bad as each other." Halt got up, and gave Will a pat on the shoulder. "You've done enough work today – I think I tortured you enough having Crowley teach you. Have the afternoon off – but don't expect that to happen every day. I know you're itching to play your lute."

"It's a mandola Halt!"

Leaving Will to try out his new mandola, Halt went to join Crowley again. As he reached the door, Will called out, "Halt, thank you for the mandola… it truly is the best present I've ever had."

Halt gave Will a small nod of acknowledgement, left the room, and shut the door behind him.

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><p><strong>There you have it - another chapter and a long 'un at that! Got a little bit fluffy there don't you think?<strong>

**Thanks once again for reviews/follows/favs.**

**In other news: did everyone enjoy the Olympics? I watched it non-stop for the whole two weeks. I loved the opening ceremony, and got way into some of the events like the archery, equestrian and diving! I'm sad that it's over now :(**

**Anyway, I'll stop babbling - please review... doesn't have to be about the story, could be about the Olympics (but I would prefer it if you did mention the story).**

**May your arrows fly true - SeekerMaxia.**


	8. A Non Existent Chance

**Chapter Eight – A Non-Existent Chance**

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan.  
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><p>It had been a couple of weeks since Halt had given Will the mandola, and this was the first evening that Will had decided not to play it, much to Halt's relief. He knew getting Will an instrument would be a bad idea and he shouldn't have listened to Crowley… but at least it replaced the questions. After two days of Will playing the mandola at every chance he got, Halt had made Will go outside on the veranda whenever he wanted to practise. This meant finally giving the boy the crutches, but it caused Halt endless amusement to watch Will awkwardly shuffle along with one crutch, while his other arm was occupied holding his mandola. Tonight however, Will was sat in his usual chair in front of the fireplace, leg propped up on a stool.<p>

"Broken your lute?" asked Halt, whilst sat nursing some coffee.

"Mandola," replied Will automatically. Halt always referred to the instrument as a lute, but Will had a sneaking suspicion that Halt was fully aware that it was a mandola, but insisted on teasing Will by getting the name wrong. "I haven't broken it – I'm not that bad… I think. I just thought I'll give it a break tonight. I've got blisters on my fingers, so I decided to let them heal for a bit before they get infected."

Will held his hand out to Halt to emphasise his point. Halt merely raised an eyebrow in reply. Every Ranger had calluses on their fingers from pulling back the string on their bow – relentless practice saw to that. When Will had first gotten blisters on his fingers because of this, Halt had told him to work through the pain and his fingers would soon toughen up. Halt didn't dare to repeat this advice as tonight would hopefully be the first in two weeks that he would go to bed without some song stuck in his head.

"Anyway," continued Will, "I like fletching arrows."

With nothing else to do, Halt had decided to add to his stock pile of arrows. Although Rangers carried twenty-four arrows in their quivers, Halt liked to keep more stored away in case they were called away on a long mission, and had found that his stock pile was getting dangerously low. While it was possible to buy arrows, Rangers liked to make their own so they were sure that no one could have tampered with them, and because each Ranger's arrows had a distinguishing feature; Halt's arrows had a black shaft, while Will's on the other hand had a grey shaft. Halt could tell that Will ached to be using his bow again, and fletching arrows felt like a compromise.

Both Ranger and apprentice worked in a companionable silence as they made their new arrows. After a while, Will started to fidget in his seat. Halt ignored this as he knew Will would settle down again soon enough. As predicted, Will did, and they continued to work in that comfortable silence.

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><p>Itching; that's all Will could concentrate on – the horrible itching sensation in his leg. It was so great that it even distracted him from asking questions. Will would have dearly loved to scratch the troublesome spot, but that was rather hard when you had a cast upon your leg.<p>

Will shifted in his seat trying to get into a comfortable position, hoping that it would in some way alleviate the discomfort. It made no difference, so he sat still again. He didn't want to annoy Halt by moving around too much. He knew that he annoyed his master enough by his questions and more recently, playing his mandola.

As he picked up a wooden shaft, to make another arrow, Will shot an angry glare at his leg, as if this act would penetrate through the cast and relieve the itchiness of his leg. This didn't work. Contrary to popular belief, Rangers did not have magical powers – although at this moment in time, Will wished he did just to stop the itching.

With slight resignation, Will turned his attention back to the arrow shaft in his hands. Inspiration struck. Quickly glancing at Halt to ensure he wasn't watching, Will slid the arrow shaft in the gap between his leg and the cast. Just as he found the right, a voice interrupted.

"Pray, tell… what are you doing?"

Will hurriedly pulled the arrow shaft from underneath his cast and looked up to see Halt looking slightly bemused.

"Scratching my leg," said Will sheepishly, not quite looking Halt in the eye.

"With an arrow shaft?"

"Yes," clarified Will. There was a moment's silence before Will decided he should elaborate. "My leg itches really badly, and this is the narrowest thing that can fit down my cast."

Halt looked from the arrow shaft in Will's hands, up to Will's face. "Don't do it again," warned Halt. "Imagine what Lucas would say if he took the cast off only to find an arrow shaft hiding in there."

"But Halt, you don't understand how itchy my leg is," pleaded Will.

"Oh but I do. I broke my arm as a child," replied Halt glancing down at the arm in question. He had climbed a tree, but slipped and fell – since that incident he had always been reluctant to climb anything that was taller than him, not that he would let it get in his way of Ranger duties.

"Really Halt?" Will asked, processing this information – he virtually knew nothing about Halt's early life, only that he originally came from Hibernia, judging by his accent. Finding out that Halt had broken his arm as a child was something akin to a breakthrough discovery.

"You sound surprised."

"I never thought you were ever a child," said Will straight-faced.

Halt scowled at his apprentice, "Has anyone ever told you that you're not as hilarious as you think you are."

"Gil appreciates my jokes."

"That says everything," grumbled Halt, before turning his attention back to fletching his arrows.

"Halt, was it your right arm that you broke?" ventured Will.

"Yes… why do you ask?"

"I've always wondered why your arms are uneven. Your right arm is shorter than your left."

Halt glanced down at his arms, frowning slightly. He looked up at Will who was smiling wickedly. It was not lost on him that Halt was trying to compare his arms in a subtle way.

"You know Will," said Halt, giving his famous glare, "If you want to insult me, you should do it when you regain the ability to run – there's slightly less chance of you not getting shot by an arrow that when. Of course, when I mean slightly less chance… I mean a non-existent chance."

Will looked Halt in the eye, before mumbling "Yes Halt" and started working again on his arrows in silence.

And Halt finally got the peaceful evening that he thought he deserved.

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><p><strong>Ok, that's a short chapter for you all.<strong>

**Thanks again the the reiviews and what nots.  
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**There's about a couple more chapters to wrap this story up for people who have previously asked, or about to ask.  
><strong>

**Now a song:  
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**Hey, you just read this,  
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**and this is crazy,  
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**to get another chapter,  
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**review maybe?  
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**Ok, I know that totally sucked... but I have the song suck in my head and I thought I might jazz it up with my obviously amazing songwriting skills.  
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**But seriously... review please :)  
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**May your arrows fly true - SeekerMaxia.  
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	9. If I Could, I Would

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan**

**Chapter Nine – If I Could I Would**

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><p>Will sat lazily in his chair on the cabin's veranda. It was sixday, so it was Will's day off from training – and he was glad not to have to do any of Halt's theory work today. He had a smile lingering on his lips due to the fact that Alyss had only just left from her visit. Halt secretly approved of this visit for a variety of reasons: She was a polite young lady who could teach Will a thing or two in respecting your elders; she directed Will's incessant chatter away from Halt; Halt was able to embarrass Will by recounting stories of his apprentice's stupidity (something he called pay-back); and most importantly, she made good coffee. Although, Will had noticed that she did not make any for herself, but he was confident that he could remedy that.<p>

Now that Alyss had gone, and with that the opportunity to embarrass Will some more, Halt had decided to test the arrows that he had made the previous night to ensure that they were fit for duty. If they weren't perfect, then they were remade. So far, all of the arrows had Halt's seal of approval. As Halt was testing out his arrows, Will strummed absentmindedly on his mandola. He was rather proud of himself since he had managed to teach himself how to play "Old Joe Smoke", and could now play it without making too many mistakes – barring the tricky interlude; he wasn't ready for that just yet. Will had played the song to Alyss, who seemed impressed, but he wasn't sure if she was actually impressed or was just being polite.

Will watched as Halt, now finished shooting the newly made arrows, went to inspect his handy work. Several trees of varying distance were now decorated with black shafted arrows, and from where Will was sitting, he could tell that the arrows were grouped no wider than a hand span on each of the trees. Halt proceeded to pull the arrows from the trees, inspecting each of the fletchings and leaf shaped arrow heads for damage, before placing them into his quiver.

As Halt turned to go to the next tree, the sunlight glinted off his face, highlighting the grey in his beard. Will was sure that more grey hairs had sprouted over the past few weeks.

_At the rate he's going, we'll have to start calling him Greybeard Halt, _mused Will, smirking at his own wit. He carried on strumming on his mandola, mentally trying out the name. _Greybeard Halt… Greybeard Halt… I wonder if Gil can help me make it catch on… might be the last thing we ever do though. Greybeard Halt – hang on!_

He strummed again a line from "Old Joe Smoke" substituting "Greybeard Halt" instead of the original lyrics. It fitted perfectly. Struck with inspiration, Will grabbed some parchment from the table beside him, and started writing. Halt had turned around at the sudden movement; but seeing that his apprentice was merely scribbling away, he turned back to continue collecting the last of his arrows.

Before long, Will had written out the entire lyrics to "Old Joe Smoke", but had crossed out "Old Joe Smoke", replacing the words with "Greybeard Halt". Will looked to the first verse.

"_Greybeard Halt's a friend of mine, _

_he lives on Bleaker's hill._

_Greybeard Halt never took a bath,_

_And they say he never will." _

Will glanced at the figure of Halt with his scruffy beard, knowing that the hair hidden underneath the cowl of his cloak was in a similar state. It did look like Halt never took a bath, although Will knew the opposite was true. Will decided to keep the last two lines of the verse, and turned to the problem of "Bleaker's Hill". Obviously Halt didn't live on Bleaker's Hill – if that was indeed a real place – no, Halt lived in a cabin in the woods – but this did not fit well into the song. What Will needed was a phrase that was three syllables long.

Just as Will started to think of a solution to this problem, a messenger from the castle arrived, who had a brief conversation with Halt before turning his horse back towards the castle. Halt stared after the messenger until he was lost in the trees before walking over to Will. Thinking quickly, Will scrunched up the parchment containing the lyrics, and casually chucked it into the mandola case beside him. It wouldn't be good if Halt read what was on that piece of parchment.

"Baron Arald has summoned me to the castle. I'll probably be a while so don't get into any mischief," said Halt.

"If I could then I would, but I can't so I shan't," replied Will, gesturing to his leg.

Halt gave Will a steady look. "Have been learning a new language in your spare time?"

"No – why?"

"What you said didn't sound Araluen to me."

Halt stalked off to the stable to saddle Abelard, and when he appeared again on top of the pony, he said, "While I'm gone, please reacquaint yourself with the official language of the country that you serve. It may be useful for future reference." Then he nudged Abelard into a steady canter away from the cabin.

Once Halt was gone, Will retrieved his crumpled parchment and smoothed it out, once again pondering the problem of "Bleaker's Hill". Halt was the Ranger of Redmont Fief – and Redmont Fief had three syllables, but the song needed to rhyme, and "fief" did not rhyme with "will".

_Maybe it would work as Redmont hill,_ thought Will. _The cabin is on a slight incline in Redmont Fief – I suppose that could count as a hill in a loose sense. It'll work until – if – I think of something better._

Will worked through the rest of the song, tweaking it where necessary, but found that he did not have to change much. Will did consider changing the lines about the goats to something that related to the Ranger ponies, but decided against it since he thought that the original was funny enough.

Once finished, Will placed the new (and in his opinion, improved) lyrics on the table beside him to refer to, and picked up his mandola from where it was propped up beside him. He initially worked slowly through the song, fumbling through the chords, singing quietly to himself. He played the song over and over again, gaining more confidence with each repetition, but still singing quietly lest Halt return and hear him playing the unflattering parody.

After a couple of hours, Tug whinnied. It was the whinny that was reserved specially for the arrival of Halt and Abelard. Will grabbed the lyrics from where they rested on the table and hastily folded the parchment before stuffing it in his jerkin. He started playing a tune made up of random chords as Halt rounded the corner atop of Abelard, looking surlier than usual.

"How did your meeting go?" asked Will when Halt got near.

Halt glowered at his apprentice in reply as he dismounted Abelard.

"That well?"

"I'll be glad when that cast is off, then you can suffer with me through pointless meetings," snapped Halt, leading Abelard away.

Will patted the place where the parchment was stowed away to make sure it was still there, safely out of the sight of Halt.

_Halt is definitely going to kill me if he ever finds out._

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><p><strong>Thank you once again for reviewsfavourites/follows!  
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**So here's another chapter. If you spot any typos then tell me in a review - for some reason I keep thinking there's a typo in there somewhere despite proof-reading this.  
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**I've decided today will be called Funday Friday since you'll not just get one chapter, but you'll get another one, which will be uploaded later today! (This is a one-time thing by the way - it's not going to happen every Friday).  
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**So once again, please review - it makes me all happy inside. You can even just say "Hi" or put a smiley face just like this one - :)  
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**-SeekerMaxia :)  
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	10. Greybeard Halt

**Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan**

**Chapter 10 - Greybeard Halt**

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><p>Halt pushed the finished report away from him and stretched in his seat. It was peaceful in the cabin – the only sound coming from the crackling fire, keeping away the evening's chill. He glanced out of the window; it was getting dark and night would soon fully be upon the clearing. It was time to settle Abelard down for the night. Halt stood up and grabbed an apple for his horse – a treat that was rationed to one per day, although Halt knew that Will would occasionally sneak the horse extra apples.<p>

The apprentice in question was already in the stable, playing his mandola to the pair of Ranger horses. Halt wasn't sure whether he should feel sorry for Tug and Abelard, or relieved that he didn't have to listen.

Will now had his cast off, much to his delight, and Halt's, but mainly for the fact that the apprentice was now able to do the chores once again. In fact, Will had been so delighted that as soon as the cast was off, he stood up… only to fall flat on his face as soon as he took a step forward. Halt _was _in a position where he could have prevented Will from greeting the floor, but had decided that his apprentice needed an impromptu lesson in patience. While Halt had found this to be amusing, Lucas the healer certainly did not, resulting him in giving a very sheepish Will a lecture in aftercare, so all of the healer's good work would not have been wasted. Will had followed this advice to a certain extent, as evident a few days later Lucas' visit when Halt had found Will practicing his archery from a tree. Will had reasoned that sitting in a tree counted as resting his leg since it was his arms and back doing all the work when pulling back the string of his bow. Halt however pointed out that Will should not be putting his newly healed leg though too much strain, and climbing up a tree could be seen as the exact opposite. After a moment's consideration, Will agreed with Halt and scrambled back down the tree before limping off to the cabin to make lunch. Will much to his annoyance, was forced to take it easy when it rained for two weeks non-stop. Halt took this opportunity to keep an eye on his apprentice, ensuring that he wasn't doing anything that would give Lucas a heart attack (despite the healer's youth) if he ever found out. It seemed to have worked since Will was no longer limping.

Today was the first day that it had not rained, and after a day of training, Will had decided to show off his new-found musical ability to the Ranger horses, now that he was certain that his mandola wasn't going to get any kind of water damage. As he left the cabin, Halt swung his cloak around his shoulders: although they were now well into spring, it was still chilly during the evenings.

Heading towards the stable, Halt could hear an upbeat tune being played. He vaguely remembered that it was called "Saddle the Pony". Just before he reached the entrance of the stable, the tune finished and he heard Will speaking to horses from inside the stable.

"I'm going to play one more song – it's one that I've written."

Halt stopped just outside the stable entrance. Will had been a bit secretive with his mandola playing over the last few weeks, and Halt had decided that it must have been some weird teenager thing that he didn't want to know about – and probably wouldn't understand.

"When I say written," continued Will, "I mean a parody, but you have to promise not to tell Halt – especially you Abelard. If I find out you've told him, you won't be getting any extra apples from me. Halt's writing reports. He'll be occupied with them for a while, so we're safe."

Halt heard the horses shake their manes in agreement, and despite his better judgement, Halt let curiosity get the better of him. He peeked his head around the entrance to the stable. Will was sat with his back facing the entrance, absorbed in playing the introduction to "Old Joe Smoke". Abelard and Tug looked towards him, but Halt gave them the "silent" signal before they alerted Will to his presence. Listening to the introduction, Halt wondered why he wasn't allowed to listen, but his question was answered as soon as Will started to sing.

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><p>"<em>Greybeard Halt is a friend of mine,<em>

_He lives on Redmont's hill,_

_Greybeard Halt never took a bath,_

_And they say he never will!_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_Fare thee well, I say,_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_I'll see you on your way._

_Greybeard Halt, he lost a bet,_

_He lost his winter coat,_

_When winter comes, Halt stays warm_

_By sleeping 'mongst the goats._

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_Fare thee well, I say,_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_I'll see you on your way."_

Will was proud of himself. So far so good; he wasn't making any major mistakes, just about fumbling through the tricky interlude that he had only recently managed to teach himself. He continued playing, gaining in his confidence.

"_Greybeard Halt, he lives with goats,_

_That's what I've heard tell,_

_He hasn't changed his socks for years,_

_But the goats don't mind the smell!_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_Fare thee well, I say,_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_I'll see you on your way._

_Greybeard Halt is a fighting man,_

_I've heard common talk,_

_That Greybeard Halt, he cuts his hair,_

_With a carving knife and fork!"_

He was nearly finished – just the final chorus left. He was impressed at how well he had played, and also thought that Tug and Abelard were amused at the song.

"_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_Fare thee well, I say,_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,_

_I'll see you on your – ACK!"_

Will was cut off as he was pulled forcefully to his feet by someone grabbing his shirt collar. He dropped his mandola on the straw covered ground, with one hand scrabbling to his saxe, while the other pulled at his shirt to prevent him from being strangled to death. Turning, Will sought out the identity of his attacker, only to find himself face to face with Halt; a furious Halt – and furious was an understatement.

Will let his hands drop uselessly to his sides.

"Halt… how… how much did – you heard all of it didn't you? I'm so so sorry Halt –"

Without a word, Halt – still tightly holding onto Will's shirt collar – marched towards the trees at the edge of the clearing.

"I'm really sorry Halt," jabbered Will, stumbling as he tried to keep pace with his mentor. "You're going to kill aren't you – please don't kill me Halt – I'll make it up to you – I won't ever ask any questions ever again – please Halt – don't kill me!"

Halt ignored Will. He paused at the edge of the clearing, looking around as if thinking over something. Will looked hopefully to his mentor, but any hope of forgiveness was dashed when he saw that Halt's face was still a sheer mask of fury.

Whatever Halt was looking at, he soon came to a decision when he dragged a now silent Will approximately a hundred yards or so to their left, stopping at the base of a particularly tall tree. Halt roughly pushed Will forward.

"Climb," commanded Halt, in a voice he normally reserved for dangerous criminals.

Without hesitation, Will scrambled up the tree faster than he had ever climbed before. He climbed as high as safely possible, and perched himself on a sturdy branch. Looking down through the branches, he saw the small figure of Halt give a nod of grim satisfaction, before going into the cabin. With a sigh of resignation, Will wriggled himself into a more comfortable position and wrapped his cloak tighter around him, counting himself lucky that he wasn't dead – well not just yet.

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><p>Not long after dawn, Will watched as Halt came out of the cabin and strolled over to the base of the tree. Looking up, Halt located his apprentice and made eye contact with him. Halt now looked calm; although Will knew that a calm looking Halt could be worse than a furious Halt. Will had been awake all night – not only from the freezing cold – but also from worrying about what would happen to him; something that he was about to find out now.<p>

"Come down boy," called Halt. Will hesitated for a second before climbing down to face Halt. It had been a long, long time since Halt had called him "boy".

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Will turned to Halt.

"I am truly sorry Halt – it will not happen again."

The Ranger's dark eyes gave nothing away as he scrutinised the apprentice, who had to try very hard not to squirm under that cold, hard gaze.

"Bucket is by the door, water is in the stream, thirty-one buckets to fill the barrel," listed Halt. "I need breakfast – preferable bacon and eggs. The pans need scouring. Rugs need beating – in fact I do believe the entire cabin needs to be cleaned. The stables need a thorough cleaning. Firewood needs fetching. Reports need to be delivered to the castle. I think rabbit will be a good choice for dinner tonight, so someone is going to have to hunt for that. Is that all clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. When you've finished all that, come and find me. I have plenty of other things for you to do."

Will nodded his affirmation and set off to collect the bucket.

"Oh, and Will?" called Halt, causing Will to turn around and face the Ranger. "If I ever hear you play that song again – you'll be pushing up daisies."

Will gulped and turned back to his task. No doubt Halt very much regretted buying him that mandola.

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><p><strong>That's it - the final chapter to this story.<br>**

**Thank you to everyone that has read this story and a big thank you for the last time for those who reviewed/favourited/followed this story - treat yourself to a biscuit - what the heck, everyone can have a biscuit!  
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**I've updated twice in one day, so count yourselves spoilt!  
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**I found the lyrics for "Greybeard Halt" from the Ranger's Apprentice Wikia, and "Saddle the Pony" is an actual folk tune, which you can find on Youtube.  
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**So yeah - I have nothing else to say... apart from the good old fanfiction motto: Review please! :)  
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**-SeekerMaxia.  
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